Isla Haraya: Maria (Published under IMMAC)

Chapter 1: Real Life

Trigger warning: May contain sensitive topics such as death, sex, profanity, suicide, self-harm, drugs, alcohol, mental health, sexuality, etc. Please be guided accordingly and read at your own risk.

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Life is a series of routines, a force of habit that becomes a cycle we follow just because we got used to it. For the most part, it was what we wanted and, maybe, needed. Having a routine made things steady and stable, which was helpful during those times when life turned into a jumbled mess of stress and pressure. In life, it was important to have a constant—may it be a person, a place, or an activity—that would keep us grounded and would balance the chaos.

To me, my constant was to work.

It had always been like that for the longest time. Despite the repetitive nature of my job, it never bored me. There was something comforting about doing the same thing over and over again to the point that my body memorized how to do it.

And when my world felt like a mess of scattered emotions and jumbled thoughts spilled across my bedroom floor, simply drowning myself in work tasks made me feel like I was standing on steady ground...even if it was only temporarily. Even just for a while, I could feel that I had some control over something in my life.

But it became an addiction that was used as a reason to turn my back on every aspect of my life because it felt like a valid reason to be absent.

"Ria...Ria? Earth to Ria?" someone called out, cutting through my thoughts that were starting to get all jumbled. When I turned to who it was, I was welcomed by the weary expression plastered on Anne's face. She shook her head as a sigh escaped her lips as she looked away from me and focused on her laptop screen. "You've been spacing out a lot more lately."

Pressing my lips into a straight line, I knew that I would be lying if I denied it because even though I was self-aware of how my thoughts were always floating around to nowhere, and trying to ground myself had proven to be a challenge.

I let a shaky laugh escape my lips, covering up the truth with a slightly close-to-the-truth excuse, "I just had a few things bothering me lately but everything's okay." I turned to her, giving her a small smile as if to convince her that I was indeed okay. "Anyway, what were you saying?"

Anne raised a brow at me, probably unsure if she should trust the words coming out of my mouth or if she should let herself be worried. But when I forced my smile to grow wider, she had no other choice but to take my answer as I presented it to be—true. "Nothing. I was just asking you if you ever thought that this is such a dead-end job, especially being on the night shift." She made sure to whisper the latter part of it, carefully glancing around if any of our co-workers were around.

"Hmm..." I hummed, showing some hesitance despite knowing the answer—no. Compared to them, I was actually satisfied with my job while they were looking for something else—a job that could make their eyes twinkle. "It depends on what you're looking for in life. Personally, I don't mind this job at all. It has a fixed time despite being the night shift, which I am okay with because my brain works better at night. It has good benefits and everyone just minds their own business." I shrugged. "This job actually checks out a lot of items on my checklist. But that's me. Your checklist might be different from mine."

There was quite a long moment of silence that hung over our heads. While I let her ponder over the things I said, hoping she would realize that not everyone is the same, I went back to my task where my mind surprisingly felt clear.

"I guess I'm still looking for myself and I don't see myself being here in the next five years," she said, cutting through the silence with a soft tone as if she was being careful that someone might hear her. There was a faint tone of sadness that tinged her voice, which I could recognize all too well. It was the same tone that I could hear from my own voice whenever I felt defeated and all I could think of was giving up.